CHAPTER396
“I’ll tell Mom you threw me on the floor, she will whoop your ass.” I pout, picking up the sweats and pulling them on over my underwear lazily, knowing that defiance is futile, and if I attempt to get back in bed she will have no qualms about throwing a bucket of water over me, like she did when I was seventeen.
“I’ll break your nose if you tell on me, then I’ll burn all your My Little Ponies.” Leila locates slippers from my early teens in the depths of a drawer and throws them at my head with accurate aim. I manage to duck at the last minute and scowl at her even more fiercely.
“I would probably love you more if you didn’t think violence was acceptable in a sisterly relationship, Leila.” I pull on the T-shirt over my tank top and slide the slippers on obediently.
“Where’s the fun in that. Now move. Don’t make me wait, as the twins had me up all night with chicken pox, and I’m a hell of a cranky bitch today.” She commands, now crossing arms across her T-shirt clad, yet still perky, bust. She’s still a looker for an old married broad that’s getting on in life, and close to retirement age.
“What’s new, and what’s the matter? Has Daniel stopped letting you beat him through sex, and you need another outlet for all that rage?” I grin as Leila hits me with an unamused glare.
“Funny. Don’t think you can sass me, and I will forgive and forget the past year of our lives. You, young lady, have a lot of explaining to do, and I am not leaving until I get some.” Leila motions me to move first, and then shoves me hard from behind through the bedroom door when we get to it. I trip and throw her a furious squint. “Besides, my husband likes me being aggressive in bed, keeps the kink alive.”
I shrug her hands off my shoulders with attitude.
“You know this is not the way to welcome someone back into the loving family fold.” I sarcastically grumble, but Leila ignores me. I focus on trying to keep my sisters clawing hands off me as we make our way down the sweeping staircase. Leila seems to have it in her head that I am a flight risk and latches a vicious grip on my waistband as we near the bottom of the stair, near the main door.
“Leila, can you calm the fuck down. I’m hardly going to bolt out the door in Rugrats sweats and a pair of pink pig slippers, for God’s sake.” I struggle once more as we hit the floor, but Leila only regards me coolly.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Leila smirks, so I poke her in the face. Right in the cheek. I was aiming for an eye, but she moves at the last second and slaps my hand away.
“That wasn’t even funny five years ago.” I stick my tongue out and finally manage to disentangle cray cray’s bony fingers from my body.
“Well seeing as you’re still the same mental age as five years ago, it was worth a shot.” Leila slaps my already sensitized ass sharply as she heads into the breakfast room, pulling a yelp and flinch with the impact. I make ugly faces at her back and follow her in, giving her the bird before my mom can see what I’m doing.
I am a little more alert than yesterday now anyway. Sleep has helped, so has being roughed up and I don’t feel so distraught today. In fact, I feel like yesterday was just one massive dream and the effects are yet to catch up. I trip on my slipper as I maneuver the bright room, table already laid for breakfast, and my mother sat in a robe, bleary-eyed and chipper is gazing at us fondly. Leila has obviously ripped us both out of bed, seeing as it is barely seven a.m.
“She threw me on the floor and threatened to break my nose.” I immediately point out as she sits at one end of the table, grabbing a croissant and jam as she does so. I know my dad is probably already up and showering for work and we won’t be seeing him anytime soon. He takes breakfast with him on the commute to his offices, about a thirty-minute drive away. Not that he needs to work, his company runs itself, and we are hardly poor.
“Leila … Don’t be harsh on your baby sister.” mom gives her a serious frown as Leila slides in at the table opposite her instead of the seat she had been hovering at a minute ago. I guess she figures close and cozy at one end of the table will make me more likely to spill my guts, or I will be close enough to assault with the butter knife.
“Momma, when you start beating her then I won’t need to.” Leila smiles cheekily and delves into the pile of pancakes being laid down by the new young housekeeper. I think her name is Olivia or something, we haven’t been introduced. My parents forget that the housekeepers are people too sometimes, and I happen to be around the same age as her. I smile her way and get a blush in return before she scurries off.
“I will never beat my children.” She says in almost sheer disgust, as though the very thought is abhorrent to her.
“That’s why we’re all spoiled brats who think alcohol is God’s answer to all our problems, Mom. God knows I could have used a few spankings in my time.” Leila smiles brightly and I curb the urge to say out loud that I am sure she has had many a spanking, that Daniel probably still provides. “I’ll spank Sophie for you if you like?” She smirks my way, eyebrows raised in that ‘and I’ll like it’ sort of look she’s good at. I giggle, extending another middle finger because she is only confirming my thoughts on her sexual preferences.
“You will not. I won’t hear of any of you hitting one another.” Mom’s now buttering toast, small happy glances at my presence at the table, and of the familiarity of this unfolding scene, obviously making her joyful today.
“Too late.” Leila smiles as I stick my tongue out at her. Our mother snaps up in alarm as I raise my own eyebrows.
“She slapped my ass three times already. Pretty sure she has left permanent marks.” The childishness of my tattle telling only makes her sigh.
“Why is it my grown children behave like ten year olds when back under this roof? How do any of you function in the adult world?” She sighs and looks to both of her girls as we systematically shrug."
